I Loved Her First
by Neocolai
Summary: When he knew his time had come, when he felt the weight of Sammy's foot press down on his neck, it wasn't the fate of his younger self that ran through his mind. It was the image of dimpled cheeks, of sunshine and laughter, and the knowledge that once more he had failed to protect what mattered most in his life. Oneshot.


**Supernatural I do not own. Tragic, really.**

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From the moment he hit the ground, from the instant his baby brother's foot rested on his neck, he knew it was over.

Dean could have laughed at the irony; despite all his efforts, evil had triumphed over good in the end. No matter how hard he had tried, Sammy was the one sentencing him to death. It seemed fitting, in a depressingly morbid way.

He was ready for this, Dean realized. He had been prepared for this moment for a long time. He had always sworn he would die for Sammy; his life had revolved around his little brother. He was not afraid to die by his hand.

But what would _she_ do without him?

His heart clenched as a picture flashed to his mind, of ringlets of golden hair streaming in the wind, dimpled cheeks spreading in a radiant smile as his little girl ran to greet her Daddy. Throwing her arms around his neck, wrapping her legs around his waist in her four year old attempt to keep him always by her side.

_I was enough for her not long ago._

She was so innocent, so untouched by the carnage of war. He had done everything to spare her.

_I was her number one, she told me so._

When she was a year old he tucked her safely in her crib, often staying up into the early hours of the morning with his shotgun laid across his knees, as shadows tapped at the window glass.

When she was two he taught her not to disturb the circle of salt around her sleeping bag. She thought it was a game to draw out the fireflies to play.

When she was three she told him that the salt laid along the Impala windows was to keep the frost from cracking the glass. He didn't have the heart to tell her it was to protect her from the same darkness that drove them from the sanctuary of their home.

When she was four he taught her how to use a silver pocketknife in case Daddy wasn't around when she was in trouble. She thought he was referring to the battered copy of pirate stories he had scavanged from a crushed mobile home, teaching her how to battle Captain Hook and all his mercenaries.

_And she still means the world to me, just so you know._

Who would be there to protect her now? Would she stay hidden in the underground shelter like he told her to, starving to death unless a compassionate survivor miraculously found and rescued her?

Would she think he abandoned her when he never returned? When the weeks turned into months, and her Daddy never woke her in the midnight hours to kiss her goodnight?

Would she be safe if Lucifer learned the truth; that Michael's Sword had an heir?

Would she scream for her Daddy to save her, just before her fragile neck was snapped like a twig?

His heart ached to think of what might happen when he would no longer be there to protect her.

_So be careful when you hold my girl._

It wasn't the years of his life that passed in front of Dean's eyes; not the years he spent hunting with Sammy, nor the ache that his little brother was the one carrying out his execution.

It was the image of sunshine and laughter, racing out of their run down shelter, strangling him with her fierce grip and lightening his heart with her sheer joy.

It was the distant memories of their one Christmas when he was home, of a half dead brush covered with paper streamers and her eyes lighting up as he handed her the tattered copy of pirate stories wrapped in an old sheet of newspaper.

He always wished he could have given her something glamorous, just like the parents of "normalsville" did. Just like he had always wanted to do for Sammy.

But hunters didn't have a choice. It was scrounge up what you could find or die trying to steal it from a superstore.

She didn't deserve that kind of a life.

It was all that he could offer her.

He heard running footsteps, and by some inner instinct he knew who it was. Briefly his eyes met with the identical hazel irises of his younger self. So much he wished he could communicate with that one glance.

**One day you'll meet her,** he wanted to say. **Will you do a better job protecting her than I?**

For who would tell his beloved sunshine that he had failed her, just like he had failed everyone else? How could he bear to think of her cheeky laughter being snuffed out like a candle in a gust of wind, the moment she learned her Daddy was never going to be there for her?

_Time changes everything, life must go on,_

_And I'm not gonna stand in your way._

**You'll know her one day,** he wanted to tell his younger counterpart. **And one day, when you hold that tiny bundle in your arms and realize that she's your own precious little girl, then you'll understand.**

_I loved her first,_

_I held her first,_

_And a place in my heart will always be hers._

_From the first breath she breathed,_

_When she first smiled at me,_

_I knew the love of a father runs deep..._

**Will you be there for her, even though I'm not?** he wanted to ask. No, he wanted to _beg, _to plead with his other self to take her away from this war zone and be the guardian he had always wanted to become, yet had never succeeded.

But it was too late, now. In that brief flash of an instant he felt the pressure of Sammy's foot depress on his neck, heard the snap of his bones even before the darkness closed around him.

_**Lord Jesus, protect my little girl**_**,** he pleaded as conscious thought scattered.

The last few bars of an old tune hummed in his mind, and in that last brief flash of his life he remembered the startled look in his younger self's eyes. A bitter smile tugged at his heart as he remembered the last verse of his little girl's favorite lulluby, and he knew...

_Someday you might know what I'm going through,_

_When a miracle smiles up at you..._

_I loved her first._


End file.
